


Almost Enough

by andrastes_grace



Series: The Railroad [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Character Study, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5841739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrastes_grace/pseuds/andrastes_grace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glory reflects on her relationship with Desdemona, and the people she's lost over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Enough

_We’re just friends._

That’s what Glory told herself as she watched the smoke trail from Desdemona’s lit cigarette. Dez always moved her hands while she spoke and when there was a cigarette in them, it became as much a part of the conversation as her words. There was so much passion and intensity to everything Dez said. Glory both admired that and envied it. In the Institute, showing anything other than the approved level of devotion to the staff would gain unwanted attention from the SRB. Hell, even the synths who were completely loyal could be screwed over. Show too much loyalty, and the bastards at the bureau felt that was edging dangerously close to independent thought.

Even after years with the Railroad, Glory still tried to keep her emotions close; to hide all those little pieces of true passion – a spontaneous laugh when she remembered a shared joke, or the involuntary smile when she saw Dez out of the corner of her eye.

Tommy used to tease her about it – always trying to make her laugh. Or angry.

(the little shit had succeeded at that last one – _the bullets, the screaming, the bodies, looking around and he wasn’t there_ \- It wouldn’t have made him happy to know that)

Glory hoped he’d known just how much he’d meant to her.

Dez stubbed out her cigarette and Glory realised with a jolt of embarrassment that she’d been staring at her the entire time she’d been speaking. It wasn’t even like Dez had been speaking to her (which was good, in a way, because the hell if Glory could’ve taken any of that in) – she’d been going over something with Deacon and Whisper, newly back from whatever it was those two did and, from the looks of things, they were staying at HQ about as long as they usually did.

The fact that Deacon of all people had managed to get himself a partner – and keep her on board – made her miss Tommy with a sharp wrench of pain.

( _he would’ve owed her 50 caps on seeing this scenario_ )

The thought didn’t make the pain stop, but it made her smile – a brief candle flame flicker that Tommy never would’ve stopped teasing her about).

She often wondered what Tommy would’ve made of Whisper. He probably would’ve liked having another cloak and dagger type around to talk Stealth Boy technique with.

( _It hurt to see Deliverer with Whisper instead of Tommy, and it hurt to hear the new agent’s name and not see the face of her partner_ )

Stealth Boys and silenced weapons. Glory had never been able to see the point. What the hell kind of fight was over before it began? A girl had to have her fun somewhere.

She wished _someone_ was having a little less fun right now, though. She knew Deacon had seen her blush, and the way she’d been staring at Dez. Smug asshole saw everything from behind those shades.

Whisper and Deacon had been deep in their own conversation when they walked past her on the way to the church’s back tunnel, but there had been just one brief second where Deacon had turned to her, lowered his shades a fraction and winked.

Bastard. Was there anything that man didn’t know?

Not that there was anything to know. She and Dez were just friends – good friends – that was it.

( _that had been their promise that first night, when Dez’s hands and mouth and tongue had drawn out Glory’s passion and joy_ )

‘Friend’ was an easy word to say. Easier than the other words – the dangerous words – and remember the faces of the other women who’d heard them. Easier than remembering the empty eyes of a worse than dead lover (alive again now, but not the same. She’d never be the woman Glory had loved again. The Institute had seen to that long before Amari had been involved), or remember the farmhouse with the dogs, and the Brahmin, and the woman who had never known the name ‘Desdemona’.

It was easier to be just friends, and sometimes, when she and Dez both found those small moments of peace in each other's arms, she almost believed it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to intheheart for the advice and the proofreading.
> 
> Constructive criticism is more than welcome.


End file.
